


Retirement

by Danagirl623



Series: Parentlock [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Goodbye sweet prince, M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/pseuds/Danagirl623
Summary: This is just a bit of a side story to the Parentlock series. Greg Lestrade retires.Thanks for my fabulous BetaHoldt<3





	Retirement

John and Sherlock Watson stood outside of the hotel where their friend, Greg Lestrade’s retirement party was happening. Greg came out of the hotel with a big smile.  
“Good evening, lads!”  
“Hey, Greg.” Sherlock smiled at him, enveloping him in a hug. “The man of the hour.”  
Greg hugged him back, winking at John.  
“I’m so glad you came, Sherlock. I didn’t believe you’d show up.”  
“Ah, well, John had his heart set on being here to see you retire.” Sherlock said, with a honied tongue. Greg hugged John, listening to his friend lie to him.  
“Where’s Molly?” John asked.  
“Oh, she’s inside.”  
“Couldn’t wait to check out how handsome my husband looks, huh, Greg?” Sherlock teased.  
“You know I’ve got a raging hard on for the pretty soldier boy.” Greg winked at John with a laugh. “Come inside. You’re sitting with Molly and I.”  
“What did we deserve to sit at the King’s table?” Sherlock smiled at his friend. 

Years of struggle finally allowed him to admit that he did have friends—only a few—and Greg was one of them. Greg ushered the two lads into the building. Behind him, the husbands linked hands as he led them to their seats. Molly glanced over from her conversation cross table. Greg pulled Sherlock’s seat out and pushed it in for him.  
John reached out and took Molly’s hand. He squeezed it. Molly leaned over to kiss John’s cheek.  
“I’m glad you could make it,” She said. “There’s going to be all these speeches about Greg and how wonderful he is. Sherlock’ll hate it.”  
“I’m wearing a suit, Mols.” Sherlock whispered, leaning forward. “I think the worst is behind me.”  
John could almost see Sherlock finger the note cards in his pocket for his speech. The one that Greg knew nothing about. Greg was talking to someone who’d stopped by the table for his attention.  
“He’s been like that all night.” Molly sighed.”Thank goodness you two got here.”  
“He is the man of the hour.” John smiled. He picked up a water glass to take a sip.  
“John.” Greg was saying, turning to him. John hurried to stand up next to him. “Can you come this way with me? There’s someone that would like to meet you.” John hurried away with Greg. Molly smiled at Sherlock.  
“How did you get roped into a speech?”  
“I asked to do one.” Sherlock said, sheepishly. “I haven’t been the best friend to him, and I wanted to make amends.” Sherlock shrugged his shoulder. Molly’s face betrayed how really moved by she was, and came around to his side of the table to hug him. Sherlock accepted the hug.  
“God, do you remember—”  
“You know I do, Molly Hooper.”  
“When you first started coming around? You were so mean to everyone but Greg. He put you straight from day one.”  
“Ah, that was actually day three.” Sherlock grinned at the memory of a strung-out lanky teen trying to buy drugs from a much younger Greg. “He had previously arrested me for buying drugs. How do you think I met him?”  
“That’s how you met him?” Molly laughed, sipping some water.  
“Yes, Molly. Not everyone can meet me by a break in.” Sherlock grinned, in memory of how Molly’d met him.  
“That’s what happens when you turn your brain to drugs and not science.”  
Sherlock laughed as they watched the two stocky, fair-haired men return to the table.  
John pulled the seat out for Greg, and winked at him as he sat down. “Thanks for that embarrassing as hell moment.”  
“Anything for my favorite soldier turned blogger.” Greg chuckled.  
“What happened?” Sherlock asked, with a grin.  
“John has a fan on the police force. He had read all of John’s blogs.” Greg responded.  
“Oh, yes. That young man has a crush on John.” Molly grinned, cheekily.  
Greg turned to deliver a retort along the lines of 'who doesn't want John?'. Before he could speak, waiter appeared out of thin air to serve the re-dinner soup and salad.

They tucked in eagerly. The food was mediocre at best, but the conversation was flowing and the company was great, so it evened out. After everyone had eaten their dinner, and dessert was being passed around, a parade of speakers stepped up to the podium. Each one gave a droll speech about how incredible DI Lestrage was. Mostly, they were ass-kissers, but it was nice to see Greg look so puffed up.  
Finally the flow of speeches crawled to an end. Sherlock excused himself from the table. He walked behind John and kissed the top of his head, before he went up on the stage.  
Sherlock cleared his throat, then stepped up to the microphone. He smiled more to himself, and pulled the cards out of his pocket. “Good evening, everyone. Before I get started, I would just like to introduce myself. I am Sherlock Watson, formerly Sherlock Holmes. I am the world’s only consulting deductive. I am often seen pushing my way into a crime scene or out of a courtroom. I typically wear a Belstaff coat, but Greg requested I give it a night off.”  
Here, everyone laughed as if on cue. Greg looked at John with a grin, and then back to Sherlock.  
“I have known Greg Lestrade to the better part of the last forty years. The years have not been kind to him. He’s only 45, you see.”  
More laughter.  
“When I heard he was retiring, I almost fell out of my chair. Who was dumb enough to let this Detective Inspector retire? What would the criminal element of London do? Celebrate or cry? As it turns out, neither... As the streets of London have never been less criminal. Greg Lestrade has so effectively cleaned up the streets of London, that the police have ousted him in an attempt to drive their business back up.”  
Laughter again. Greg was beaming in pride at his friend’s words.  
“When I first met Greg Lestrade, I was 19 years old. I was thin as a post, and strung out beyond belief. I actually tried to buy cocaine from him. Before I got the words completely out of my mouth, he had me in cuffs. Not for the last time.” Sherlock chuckled into the microphone.  
“He brought me into the station, and talked me to death. He asked me what a smart kid like me is doing this for. He asked me why I would waste - I apologize for this memory, Lestrade.” Sherlock grinned at this point. “Why I would waste such a pretty face when London always urged for fresh meat?”  
Sparse laughter, but Greg was scarlet. “That sounds bad that way!” he called out.  
“He says it sounds bad that way, but what he meant was for a pretty, posh lad I was wasting my time with drugs when I could be changing the world.” Sherlock stepped away from the podium with a grin. “He’s right you know. I have an unbeliev-”  
“Oi!” John called, sounding very much like the young man Sherlock fell in love with.  
“Yes, too right, John!” Sherlock grinned at his husband. “John says bragging on one’s self is ill manners, so I’ll turn my bragging to a worthier man - Gregory Lestrade.”  
Here everyone burst out with a round of applause. Sherlock shot a questioning look at John who shrugged and winked at his husband. Sherlock shook his head, not understanding.  
“Drunk?” John mouthed.  
Sherlock saw the word and understood. He shuffled his index cards to find where to go next.  
“Greg Lestrade is a rare man indeed. When his wife Molly is out of the room, he’s the smartest man in the room.” Molly snickered and squeezed John’s hand again. “He strives for excellence in all areas of his life. Mostly, he succeeds. When he fails, he calls me in.”  
Laughter. Sherlock smiled, bashfully.  
“While no one matches my brilliance when it comes to crime, no one can work a crime scene like Lestrade. Also, he’s really good at controlling that horrid Anderson.” Sherlock said, making a face.  
This is where people chose to laugh - at the face, not the words.  
“I’ve seen Lestrade grow from a boy-child who barely knew his head from a hole in the ground, to the premiere DI on the force. Words I do not use lightly. So, tonight.” Sherlock picked up the glass that was placed on the podium for him. “We salute a man who not only knows hundreds of ways to kill you, but also how to get away with it.”  
Laughter. Sherlock grinned proudly.  
“To Greg Lestrade. Thank you for all you’ve done for the city of London.” Sherlock held up his glass. Everyone copied him. “Salud!” He sniffed the glass as he pretended to take a sip. Everyone followed suit, and he turned the microphone off.  
The band started up in the opposite corner. Sherlock stepped off the stage. Greg stood up, and pulled Sherlock into his arms. “I guess forty years of being in someone’s life, you finally remember their name.”  
“No, Graham.” Sherlock gave a look that read ‘is he crazy?’ They both laughed as they broke the hug.  
“Sherlock.” John smiled at him. “Would you like to dance?”  
Sherlock’s lips couldn’t resist turning up into a grin. “Yes, please.” He took his husband’s hand and pulled him out onto the floor. 

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and together they swayed around the floor. John snuggled in close, just to listen to Sherlock’s heart.  
John could live in this moment for the rest of the world: the loud quartet playing some song that John was sure his husband hated, Sherlock’s arms around John, as strong as ever.

Together they danced, together but apart. The sea of strangers meant nothing to either of them. Greg broke them out of their world. “Excuse me, John. I’d like to have this dance with Sherlock, if you’re up to it.”  
John kissed Greg on the cheek, and allowed him to take his place. John went to void his bladder.  
Sherlock wrapped his arms around Greg, and grinned. “I’ll lead.”  
“That’s normal. Why change it now?” Greg laughed. “I’m really glad you came.”  
“Thanks.” Sherlock said, taken back. “Can we not discuss feelings? Your mascara is already running.” His eyes were tearing up. Off and on all night.  
“Oh, hush you.” Greg said, swaying with Sherlock. “It’s a shame we didn’t dance at your wedding.”  
“When John married Mary you mean.”  
“No, the wedding at your house.”  
“You mean the second best day of my life?” Sherlock laughed. “The first was getting arrested by this sexy older gentleman when I tried to score some coke.”  
Greg actually started crying. Sherlock stopped swaying, and just held him. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said you to me, you bastard.”  
Sherlock laughed, nervously. “If it was nice, then why are you crying?”  
“They’re happy tears.”  
“You’re absolutely barking.” Sherlock said, shaking his head. He sounded like the young arrogant man that he used to be. The man that John had managed to turn from all angles and sharps to curves and obtuse angles. “Good thing you’re retiring.”  
Greg hugged his friend again. “Thank you for everything over the last forty years.”  
Sherlock pulled away from his friend. “You’re crying again.”  
Greg laughed. “Oh, piss off. It’s my retirement party.” 

John walked up the two men and hugged Greg tightly, squeezing extra from the emotional toll of the night.  
“We’re going to get going. My damn leg.” John smiled at his friend. “Congratulations, again. Sherl, go say goodbye to Molly.” Sherlock nodded, then scampered over to Molly. “Greg, Sherlock volunteered to give that speech. He was the first person to speak up and inquire about it. Just remember that when you think about all the shit he’s put you through.”  
“Thank you, friend.” Greg said, wiping tears away again.  
“Call us when you’re ready to come ‘round for tea.”  
“Ta, John.” Greg and John walked over to their spouses.  
“Oh, no thank you Molly. That’s really nice of you, but I don’t think I’ll be needing any body parts.” She looked surprised but hugged John.  
“Goodbye, Molly.” he said, then held his hand out to Greg to shake. They’d hugged more tonight than they had ever before. They shook hands.  
Sherlock waited until their hands broke apart and hugged Greg again. “Congratulations, you old man.”  
John shook his head slightly at Sherlock’s outreached hand. He pulled it back, and together they left the hotel. Sherlock’s taxi luck had managed to hold out (all these years later).  
John got in the cab first. Sherlock followed. 

Taking his hand, John enjoyed the quiet ride.  
“John.” Sherlock said, calmly. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. I think I’m ready to retire.”  
“Ok, Sherlock.” John said, already knowing where his husband’s heart lay.  
“I own a small cottage in Sussex. I keep bees. I have for years.” Sherlock said, simply. Of course John also knew about the cottage. He remembers when Sherlock bought it all those years ago. Sherlock had told John that one day he’d want to retire and this is where he’d spend it.  
“I remember, husband mine.”  
Sherlock’s expression was resolute. He adopted a formal tone.“John Hamish Watson, will you join me in a new adventure?”  
“William Sherlock Scott Watson, I have stood by your side all these many years and I have no intentions of changing now. I will gladly join you in Sussex.”  
“Ah, John. It seems that even now… Still… The game is on.”


End file.
